James Tipp

Rookie - 408 Points (20-06-1945 / East London)

The Painters Eye - Poem by James Tipp

The hills are stark and clear,
The shafts of milky white light
Make the colours almost paint like,
Surreal and yet more real than ever.
Black silhouetted trees,
Light brown fields with just a hint
Of winter green caught in the spotlight.
The air is chilled, uninviting
This winters day in Kent.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, December 14, 2009



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